CHAPTER Four

Cassie heard the scratch of dog’s claws against a wooden floor as she neared the bottom of the stairs, and Gin skittered into view. The dog stood with her front paws on the first step, tongue lolling and tail wagging, until Cassie reached the bottom. Cassie bent down and buried her face in Gin’s fur.

‘Hey! What are you doing in here?’

Gin immediately dropped down at the sound of Barney’s voice, but stayed at Cassie’s feet.

‘Sorry,’ Cassie said, straightening up. ‘I didn’t realise she wasn’t allowed…’

Barney performed a double take that would have been the envy of comedy actors everywhere, and stared at Cassie.

‘I didn’t mean Gin. Of course she’s allowed in the house. I didn’t recognise you. You look…’ He paused, grappling for suitable words. ‘Less weird.’

‘Mel’s been,’ Cassie replied, passing over the less than glowing compliment. ‘Less weird’ was probably one of the better things a man had called her over the last couple of years. And she didn’t care about the lack of a compliment: she had no wish to be noticed by men, never mind to attract them.

‘Oh yes, Mel,’ Barney replied, shoving his hands in his pockets and frowning. ‘I believe we have her interference to thank for tonight’s ordeal. Thinking only of profit, not what people actually want to do with their evening…’

‘Let’s forget it. I don’t want to go to the pub any more than you do.’

‘And defy Frances? I wouldn’t dare.’

‘I won’t tell her we didn’t go.’

‘Lying comes easily to you, does it?’ Cassie blushed under his suspicious gaze. ‘You’re clearly not used to living in a village. It will be news, whether we go or don’t go. Mel will make sure of that.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Are you ready? We may as well get it over with.’

Without another word, Cassie followed Barney through the hall and out of the front door, Gin close on her heels. Barney’s truck was parked at the front of the house. He opened the passenger door for Cassie, and Gin jumped in beside her. They travelled to the village in silence broken only by the rustling of Barney’s waxed jacket and the occasional snort from Gin.

The pub was a long, sprawling building made from stone that had long since blackened. A weathered metal sign hung outside, declaring it was ‘The House with No Name’. Barney led Cassie into a large room with a log fire in a central chimney breast. Mismatched chairs and tables were scattered around the flagged floor. Everyone seemed to know each other, and one conversation flowed between the groups. It was far busier than Cassie had expected on a Thursday night.

There was a definite hiatus in the hum of chatter as the door slammed shut behind Barney. Cassie stepped behind him, sheltering from what felt like a thousand eyes.

‘What do you want to drink?’ Barney addressed the question to the gap at his side, and frowned as he had to rotate to find her.

‘You don’t have to …’ Cassie faltered under his stare. ‘Sparkling mineral water, please.’

Spotting an empty table slightly away from the others, she headed towards it, horribly conscious of continuing interest as she passed, despite having her eyes fixed firmly on the floor. She perched on the narrow windowseat at the table, and glanced over at the bar. Barney was standing to one side, engrossed in conversation with an attractive blonde in her forties. As Cassie watched, he took hold of the blonde’s hand and ran his fingers up her arm.

Ten minutes must have passed before Barney joined her, banging her glass of water down on the table so hard some spilled over the side. He put his pint down more gently, and flopped into a chair, tossing a floral cushion over to Cassie’s windowseat with a wrinkle of his nose.

‘Thanks for the drink,’ Cassie said, ‘but I’m sure we don’t need to go as far as sitting together. Feel free to join your girlfriend.’

‘Girlfriend?’ He turned to see where Cassie was looking, and let out a definite snort, enough to shake his whiskers. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. She’s married. Her husband’s at the next table.’

Conversation lapsed until Cassie picked up her glass.

‘Are you an alcoholic?’

‘Of course not!’ Cassie lost more water as she slammed down her drink. ‘Why would you think that?’

‘The water. No one drinks water here. Mel probably hasn’t sold a bottle for years. There’s definitely something going on.’ Barney broke his trademark stare with a sudden, slow blink. ‘Are you pregnant?’

‘No.’ There was no comfort in being able to give a wholly honest answer for once, not on that question. She reached out for her glass, and started to spin it round and round on the table. Barney prised away her hand and yanked it towards him, examining the base of her thumb.

‘What have you done? I warned you about breaking the skin.’

He pushed his chair back, the wooden legs scraping against the flags, and marched through the crowd and out of the door. Cassie tried to fade into the curtain beside her head, wondering where Barney had gone, and whether he intended to come back. What had she done to upset him now? She was about to give up, and walk back to the house, when he stormed into the pub, Gin dancing round his feet.

He took a few long strides in her direction, but halfway across the room he was waylaid by an elderly man.Then – and Cassie wouldn’t have believed it if she wasn’t seeing it for herself – Barney laughed: a proper gust of delight that swept through his whole body and transformed him, revealing an engaging, warm-hearted, attractive man. The smile still hadn’t entirely faded from his lips when he fell back into his chair.

One glance at Cassie – who knew she was staring at him, but couldn’t seem to stop – was enough to blow away the dust of the smile.

‘Give me your hand.’

She held it out, too dazed to object, and Barney took from his pocket a small tube of cream and squeezed some onto her thumb. Cassie closed her eyes as the antiseptic smell whisked her back through the years, to the happy days running around the farm with Vicky, and the constant scrapes and grazes they had suffered. Tears hovered behind her eyelids as she imagined she could feel her mother’s gentle touch as she rubbed in the cream.

Cassie opened her eyes. This wasn’t in her imagination: the touch was real. Barney was rubbing the ointment into the wound with a gentleness she had hardly thought he possessed. That brief moment of tenderness, so unexpected and so mundane, made her heart ache for what she was missing. His eyes met hers, and temporarily the frown gave way to a flash of curiosity; and then it was gone, and he moved his hand away.

‘Hello, what’s going on here then?’ An Indian man with a protruding belly and a strong Yorkshire accent stopped at their table, and looked from Cassie to Barney with a lively grin.

‘Nothing.’ It would surely have been impossible for Barney to answer more quickly or more vehemently. ‘Blame your wife. She forced us into this drink.’

‘Aye, there’s nowt you can do when she gets an idea in her head.’ The man smiled with apparent pride at this pronouncement. ‘So you’re Cassie? Shame. I was hoping Barney might have found himself a proper girlfriend at last. You looked a fine pair when you walked in. Still, it’s early days. Plenty of time for more to develop, isn’t there?’

‘Never.’ Cassie’s emphatic answer produced an awkward silence. Her usual need to appease kicked in. ‘Sorry, I mean …’

‘Don’t be concerned on my account,’ Barney interrupted. He pushed his chair back with another excruciating squeal, and stretched out his long legs, crossed at the ankle. ‘I couldn’t agree more.’

The other man’s easy smile was faltering by this point. He brightened when Mel arrived at his side, and his arm shot round her as if to ensure she didn’t leave without him.

‘Hello,’ Mel said to Cassie. ‘Glad you could make it.’

‘As if we had a choice …’ Barney muttered. Mel ignored him.

‘I see you’ve met my husband, Akram. A fine hunk of a man, isn’t he?’ She laughed, and wobbled Akram’s stomach. ‘I hope you’ve admired Cassie’s hair. I slaved for hours over that.’

‘She’s a proper bonny lass,’ Akram agreed. ‘I would never have recognised her from your description.’

A glimmer of a smile peeped through Barney’s beard as Cassie was damned with this faint praise.

‘Are you coming to the meeting?’ Mel asked Barney.

‘What meeting?’

‘About the village hall. Surely you hadn’t forgotten? It starts in a few minutes, that’s why everyone is here.’

‘Is that tonight? I wondered why it was so busy. But I can hardly come now, can I?’ He flapped his hand towards Cassie, letting the full draught of his irritation waft her way.

‘It’s fine. I’ll walk back.’

‘In the dark? With your road sense? You’ll kill yourself.’ Barney gulped down some beer. ‘I probably have time to run you back first.’

‘Cassie can come to the meeting,’ Mel said. ‘She’s hardly met anyone yet, and she should get involved now she’s living here.’

‘It’s not settled that she’s staying,’ Barney grumbled, but for Mel the discussion was closed.

‘Never mind Mr Grouchy,’ she said to Cassie. ‘He may have a handsome smile and a heart of gold, but Gin has better manners.’

Cassie thought Gin was probably the winner when it came to the smile and the heart as well, but said nothing, and allowed Mel to bundle her into her coat. She lost sight of Barney as Mel led her behind the bar, talking nineteen to the dozen.

‘The village hall is only a couple of hundred metres down the road, near the church,’ Mel explained. ‘We’re trying to raise money to mend the roof. Well, we’re always trying to raise money to repair something, but since a storm in November, the roof has become the priority. There’s usually a good turn-out.’

Cassie could see this for herself, as they left the pub through a back door, and crossed the car park to the street. Torches illuminated a stream of villagers arriving from all directions to converge on the plain brick building, lit up like a lighthouse by powerful outside lights.

‘These lights were last year’s big project,’ Mel said, as they skirted round some parked cars and joined the crowd going in through the double doors. ‘The hall is used by all the village groups. Now the Rainbows and Cubs can see where they’re going, not to mention the oldies on bingo night. I’ll have to leave you here. I’m up at the top. Find a seat and I’ll catch up with you later.’

Cassie couldn’t see either Akram or Ruth, and knowing no one else, perched on the end of a row near the back, wondering why she had let herself be railroaded into this. She watched Mel make her way onto the stage at the far end of the hall, and join a tall, distinguished man in his seventies, who now stood up and addressed the crowd.

‘Attention!’ The manner in which he said the word, and the way it produced instant silence, confirmed Cassie’s impression that he must have a military background. ‘Welcome to the first meeting this year of the Ribblemill Village Hall Committee. Are the November minutes approved? Any matters arising? Good. Then let’s get down to business.’

There followed a succinct but dull account of the committee’s financial performance over the last year, and the likely cost of repairs to the roof. It sounded a staggering amount for a relatively small building, and induced a chorus of gasps and mutterings from the floor. And then it was Mel’s turn to take over the stage, in her role as chief fundraiser. She looked in her element as she launched into a rallying cry for money.

‘All the local shops have agreed to have a loose change jar on the counter, and we’ll have one at the No Name too. This is the biggest sum we’ve had to find, and so every penny really will help. We’re going to hold the usual events through the year: the summer barbecue, the bonfire and the Christmas party. But I think we need to squeeze in another event before the barbecue. Does anyone have any ideas?’

There was an awkward silence, punctuated by the rustle of clothing as people shifted in their seats and avoided making eye contact with Mel.

‘Come on,’ Mel said. ‘We must be able to come up with something. We need an idea that we haven’t tried before, to get everyone involved and excited.’

‘What about a sponsored knit?’ an old lady near the front suggested.

Mel’s face showed a definite lack of excitement, but at least it sparked off a few more ideas.

‘A jumble sale?’

‘A line dance?’

‘How about a beer festival?’

That suggestion certainly got the male section of the audience excited.

‘Great ideas, guys. Anyone else? Let’s have a few more and then we can take a vote.’ Mel was looking increasingly desperate. She seemed to be scanning the crowd, as if she was searching for someone. Her gaze landed on Cassie.

‘Cassie!’ Mel said, with a beaming smile. ‘You’re new to the village. I bet you have some ideas that we might not have tried before.’

Mel’s gaze picked her out like a spotlight. Even if she’d had an idea, Cassie couldn’t have uttered it. Her cheeks burned and her throat seized as the crowd swivelled to inspect her.

‘Don’t be so unfair, Mel.’ Cassie recognised Barney’s voice, though she couldn’t see him. ‘What is she supposed to say? She didn’t even know the place existed twenty minutes ago. Pick on someone else.’

Cassie waited for him to add that she wouldn’t be around long enough to be part of any event – surely he wouldn’t resist such a prize opportunity – but the words didn’t come. The villagers in front of her shifted, as they switched their attention to Barney, and Cassie saw him in the middle of the opposite block. His steady, unblinking stare was focused on her. Then something snapped. She was fed up of being written off, of being thought too worthless to have an opinion. What had been the point of getting away, if she was still letting herself be treated like that?

‘I was once …’ She coughed; her throat was dry. ‘We once held an auction of talents.’ She faltered as heads turned back her way. She could still see Barney. ‘People put their names down to offer a skill or service, and others bid for it. It costs next to nothing to organise, so it makes a good profit.’

‘Exactly what sort of service are you suggesting?’ A woman in front cast a frosty glare at Cassie. ‘This is a respectable village.’

‘It can be anything, from mowing lawns, or cooking a meal, to a more professional service.’

‘If you offer to read a bedtime story, with that voice of yours, I’ll put in a bid or two.’ Cassie couldn’t see the man who spoke, but everyone laughed and Mel took over the reins again.

‘It’s a fantastic idea. We haven’t done anything like that before. Shall we vote on the suggestions we’ve had?’

She went through a show of hands, and there was overwhelming support for the auction.

‘That’s settled. I’ll try to find a date in April or May, so all get thinking about what service you can offer. And Cassie, you can help me and the Colonel organise it as you’ve been involved in one before.’

She gave Cassie no chance to refuse. The rest of the meeting passed quickly. Cassie tried to escape as soon as it finished, but found herself surrounded by people keen to introduce themselves and welcome her to the village.

‘I’m Ethel,’ said a short lady with a steel-grey pudding-bowl haircut. Cassie recognised her from the village shop. ‘I hear you’ve moved in with Barney. He brought you up yesterday, didn’t he?’

‘No!’ Cassie replied quickly. ‘I mean, yes he did, but I’m staying with Frances at Ramblings.’

‘Good for you. There’s too much living in sin these days. I’m glad to see some young people exercise restraint.’

‘I’m not …’ Cassie stopped. It seemed rude to point out that no restraint was required. Besides, it wasn’t personal. Barney was a man. She wanted nothing to do with the entire breed. ‘Frances has employed me as her companion.’

‘She’s paying you money for that? She could have as much company as she wanted, if she made more effort to leave that house, or invited people to it,’ Ethel said. ‘I know there was a lot of trouble between her husband and the village, when he tried to build houses on the Ramblings land, but that was years ago. We all know it was his fault not hers. I bet she has no idea what she’s missing. She’d enjoy the bingo with the other senior citizens. You’ll tell her about it, won’t you?’

Cassie promised she would, but without much hope of persuading Frances to join in.

‘I’d better stock up on Jelly Babies if you’re stopping around,’ Ethel said. She smiled at a few other people who had wandered over. ‘She bought six bags yesterday! Cleared out the shelf!’

Amid the laughter, Cassie caught sight of Barney towering over the rest of the group. His face was expressionless. Cassie excused herself and walked to the door.

‘I’ll drive you back if you’re ready.’

Barney had materialised at her side.

‘No, it’s fine, I don’t want to spoil your evening.’

‘Too late for that,’ he replied bluntly. ‘I’ve had enough. I’d forgotten what a factory of gossip this place can be.’

‘Leaving together won’t help.’

‘I know, but nor will leaving separately. At least this way I can be sure you make it back safely, without jumping in front of any cars.’

He led a silent walk back to the pub car park and held open the truck door while Cassie climbed in.

‘Six bags of Jelly Babies,’ he said, his eyes glittering in the muted light shining from the windows of the pub. ‘I didn’t know they’d started making them with ibuprofen.’

Before Cassie could respond, he slammed the door and stalked round to the driver’s side. They drove back to Ramblings without speaking. Barney pulled up in front of the entrance and switched off the engine.

‘Are you coming in?’ Cassie’s question rose from surprise, not invitation. Surely they’d spent enough time together for one night? For one lifetime, she thought, as he opened the door without a glance in her direction.

‘I check on Frances every night, and make sure the house is locked up.’

Cassie jumped down from the truck and hurried after him into the hall.

‘You don’t have to do that now I’m here.’

‘Yes I do.’ He turned to face her. ‘Look, you may be a perfectly pleasant woman, but that’s not what Frances needs. You’re out of your depth. If she persists in wanting a companion, I’ll find her one who’s suitably qualified.’

‘I am suitably qualified,’ Cassie protested, hoping as she spoke that he wouldn’t ask her how. What was a companion other than a glorified servant? And hadn’t she spent the last few years perfecting that role? Although never perfecting it quite enough.

‘How? What experience do you have of looking after the elderly? Visiting your parents?’

‘They’re dead.’

‘Not a great reference then, is it?’

An uncomfortable silence hovered between them.

‘They died twelve years ago in a car accident,’ Cassie said.

‘Sorry.’ Barney scratched his beard. ‘That was crass. I shouldn’t have said it. But it doesn’t change my point. You don’t know what you’re dealing with here.’

‘Presumably Frances does, so as long as she wants me here, I’m staying. And I’ll check on her, so you can go home.’

‘Why don’t you tell me where she is, then?’

‘What?’

‘Tell me where you’re going to go to check on her.’

‘The morning room.’ It was where Frances had been last night, when she had sent Cassie off to bed, but a twitch around Barney’s eyebrows suggested it might be the wrong answer. Ignoring him, Cassie turned and walked down the corridor towards the morning room. It was empty.

‘It’s ten o’clock,’ Barney said, close behind her. ‘She’ll be watching the news.’

‘Of course.’ Cassie could feel his eyes boring into her back, waiting for her to ask the inevitable question. ‘And where would she do that?’

‘Where the television is. In the television room.’

Television room? Cassie hadn’t even known there was such a thing. It didn’t sound very Gothic.

‘Follow me.’

She had no choice but to do as he said, and Barney led her through a hidden door in the wall, down a narrow corridor covered in carpet tiles. This brought them to an inner hall, where a series of servants’ bells hung over a plain wide staircase. A stairlift ran up the side of the stairs.

‘Is that for Frances?’

‘Yes. These stairs shortcut to the bedrooms. The kitchen wing is along there.’ He pointed to the left. ‘And here,’ he continued, opening a door on the right, ‘is the TV room.’

Cassie stepped into the most modern room she had so far seen in the house, with a low ceiling, magnolia walls, beige carpet and floral curtains, which hid the windows. A large television set, broadcasting the news, stood on a mahogany cabinet in one corner. The bars of an old-fashioned gas fire glowed red. The room could have been in any house, anywhere.

‘Frances?’ Cassie approached the chair in front of the television. Frances’ eyes were closed, her mouth open, and a line of spittle was drying on her chin. Cassie was about to touch her hand when Barney put his arm out to stop her.

‘Wait.’ He covered Frances’ hand with his own, then put two fingers against her neck, feeling for a pulse.

‘Is she …?’ Cassie couldn’t bring herself to finish the question.

‘No.’ As he couldn’t have known if she was going to say dead or alive, Barney’s answer didn’t help. Frances opened her eyes and recoiled at the sight of Barney bending over her.

‘Barney!’ she said, her voice sounding dry with sleep. ‘What are you doing, poking at me like that? Take your hand away.’

‘I was making sure you weren’t dead.’ He straightened up, and took a step back, colliding with Cassie, who had been hovering anxiously behind him. He automatically put his hands on her arms to steady her.

‘You can take your hands off Cassie as well,’ Frances ordered. ‘She does not look like she is enjoying it any more than I did. You are not adding her to your victory parade.’

‘I don’t have…’ Barney looked from Frances to Cassie, and finished his sentence with an exasperated sigh. ‘You were asleep. Aren’t you feeling well?’

‘Stop making a fuss. I am perfectly well – only tired. You know I have never approved of the BBC moving the news to ten o’clock. It was much better at nine. I wrote and told them but they paid no notice.’

‘Surely you have News 24?’ Taking a wide berth round Barney, Cassie approached Frances and picked up the remote control. She pressed the buttons, and BBC News 24 appeared on screen. ‘You can watch the news at any time of day. You don’t need to wait up. Has no one told you?’

‘No. When this new television arrived, I assumed I had the same four channels as before. So I can go back to watching the nine o’clock news on this channel?’

‘You can watch the news at any o’clock you want,’ Cassie confirmed. ‘It never stops.’ She pressed some more buttons on the remote control. ‘I’ve set it as a favourite, so you can find it whenever you want by pushing this blue button.’

‘Thank you. I wish someone had thought to tell me that before.’ For a moment, Cassie thought she saw Frances’ usual stern composure slip, before it was quickly donned again. ‘You see, Barney, what a difference Cassie has made already. I cannot think what I would do without her.’

Barney’s only response was a frustrated slam of the door as he walked out.